Bill had handed the baby off to Alan, who carried it to the house for Dana and her mom. Dana ran to the barn and brought back a bale of straw, which she broke open and covered one end of the porch with, moving a rocker out of the way and a small wicker table. Her mother came up with a sheep panel that fit nicely across the end of the porch, making a six-by-six enclosure. Alan simply cuddled the baby as the vet gave it a shot, took its temperature, and calmed it down.
Dana went into the house, prepared a bottle, and came back. She got into the pen and sat down, and Alan handed her the burro who started to chug the bottle immediately. Mrs. McCallister took out her camera and snapped shots of the new baby. He finished quickly and Dana snuggled him down into the straw and left the pen to take the vet in to see the indoor pets. They could hear the canaries singing overhead.
“I can’t spin his fleece but they make good deterrents to dogs, even the miniatures. I’ll probably keep him with the goats. At any rate, he’s so darling. Now, did you think the stock was ok? Do I need to keep an eye out for anything?”
“I think you take great care of your animals,” Amanda as she took the cats out of their carriers one by one and did a check on them. They were glad to be free and purred loudly. Another cat wandered in from the back room, sounding a little like a small chain saw. He stopped in mid buzz and growled/talked and complained as he rubbed up against his owner. “If you have any problems call me.”
Alan grinned and got down to pet the cat. The cat accepted the petting as his just due. “This has to be Cantor,” he said.
“That’s him. He’s really gentle but he yowls a lot. And that Persian is St. Ives, the other two are Alistair and Cleopatra.” She paused. “Alan, you ever work in your mom or dad’s shops?”
“Yes, but I’m not working in the shop this year. You know, Dad said they’d had several ladies come in to see the drop spindles, and folks are signing up for the class, and Mom asked you to consider adding another class because you may have an overage. And she said those drop spindle kits are selling out and wondered if you had any more set up?”
“I shall definitely set up a second class as soon as this all settles and I do have more kits and I’ll take them with me when I go into town.”
“Then we’re going to be seeing each other a bit,” said Dr. Zoland. “I just signed up for that class.” She wrote out an invoice and gave it to Dana.
“It will be a pleasure having you.” She handed a check to the vet, who entered it into her laptop. Dana and Mrs. McCallister went back to settle the animals as the vet team went to their trucks.
Once back at the clinic, Amanda explained the process for the afternoon to Alan. He spent the afternoon assisting with dogs and cats and one python.
At five, he checked out and headed for home. I think this summer is going to be an absolute blast. I’m going to show the pics I took to Mom; she’s going to want to come out and see that donkey for sure, he said to himself as he left.
Chapter Six
Brad added the evidence bag with the drop spindle to the file. He studied the thing; it was obviously 3-D printed, brightly colored lime green with a hot pink whorl. Not the sort of thing Amish would have. Jammed through the screen on the door hardly seemed like the sort of thing Amish would do themselves, either, and what did this have to do with the fire?
Jed came into his office. “Hey, got a weird.” he remarked, sitting down.
“I do weird occasionally.”
“You got any idea what this is?” he handed Brad another drop spindle, this one wooden, made of some sort of hard wood that had been polished.
“Where’d you get it?”
“Boy at the schoolyard had it chasing kids with it, trying to poke them. Teacher confiscated it, and since I was in the neighborhood, had me talk to the monkey about running and chasing people with sharp objects. Wife has one sort of like it from the fiber shop; doing a class or some such thing.”
“What kid?”
“Preacher’s oldest boy, what’s his name,” he started looking through his paperwork.
“David. It figures. Did he say where he’d got it?”
“He got kind of weaselly about that. Said an old lady had given it to him.”
“Yeah. Seem to be a lot of old ladies lately. Well, I’ll see him at lunch. And I have another one left at the barn burning. I think they go together but not sure how. You get your report to me when it’s done and I’ll add it to the file.”
Brad looked at his watch, thought a moment, and decided to head out for the school. He made a short stop at the Fiber Mavens. “Hi, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “You aren’t missing anything, are you?”
“Don’t think so,” replied Lydia. “What might we be missing?” Allyssa came over as well, and Clarissa stayed at the register with her ears up. Her nose always twitched when she was trying to listen in. Thom called it her gossip’s nose.
Brad held up the evidence bags with spindles. Allyssa took them and studied them. “Those could have come from here. Our new teacher Dana put out twenty assorted drop spindles and ten kits. The kits are sold but there are a few spindles left. Let’s check.” She walked over to the spinning corner and examined the spindle display. “Some are wood, some are plastic, different styles, but this one is yellow and is made like your green one and this little one here is made like your wooden one, but I think it’s cherry. Yours looks like pine.”
Brad nodded. “So, they could have come from here?”
“They’ve been selling fast. I sent word to her to bring in more.”
“Ok, so do you keep a list of who buys them?”
“Only a list of the ones signing up for classes, I’m afraid. The rest we just check out.”
He nodded. “Well, at least I’ve got a possible point of purchase. Anyone odd signing up for classes?”
“No,” replied Allyssa as she went over to the sign-up sheet and read it. “Most the Fiber Mavens have already signed up and we’re going to hold two groups now, talked it over with Dana last night. Plus Casey and Annie, and myself and Suzanne and Aurora and my goodness, we have 25 signed up. Might need three classes. I think I can safely give you a copy of these lists if you want; they’re not really confidential hanging up on the board. And you know pretty much everyone on them.”
“Well, sort of keep an eye out, will you? I might eventually need to a copy of the sign-up sheet, but I know all these people and don’t think any of them would do anything other than spin with these.”
“Has something happened?”
“I’m not even sure of that yet. Thank you kindly for your help.”
Chapter Seven
Allyssa settled the ladies into their seats. She welcomed each one by name as they sat down and then Allyssa stood up in front of them.
“Welcome to the next new thing here at Fiber Mavens. I’d like to welcome our newest fiber artist, Dana McCallister, who comes to us from Indiana by way of, I think, Pennsylvania, Texas, Alaska, South America, Switzerland, Vermont, and Wisconsin.”
“My heavens!” exclaimed Mazie Bradler. She owned Blue Dawn Fibers. “I thought I’d made it to a lot of fiber shows, but I’ve never left the states.”
Allyssa smiled. “According to this biography, she was married to a military man and she traveled all over the world with him. He and her son are recently passed.” The entire group of ladies lowered their eyes and sighed. “However, ever since she was a child, she has been a fiber artist, as her mother Ethel McCallister was a fiber artist before her and still is. Dana has a degree in Fine Arts from Cornell University in New York, and she has been a fiber judge for the past five years. She raises her own animals to spin from, but has friends all around the world who exchange fibers from her farm to theirs. I met her last year at the Fiber and Arts show in Ashland; she was judging the fleece competition and had a booth where she was selling rovings – such wonderful rovings! When I found out she was moving here, I asked if she’d like to help teach people here and she said she’d love it. She’
s in the process of completing her move and according to my secret tall, dark, son source, she has a baby burro out at her farm, among other things. At any rate, I’m taking this class too because I’m curious as the rest of you on how to make my own yarn. Let’s welcome Dana to the Fiber Mavens!”
The ladies applauded and Dana stood up. “Thank you so much. If you would not mind, could you each introduce yourself, just go around the circle, so I can put faces with this attendance sheet? I like to know folks.”
“Let me start. I’m Allyssa Martin and I own the shop and have the cutest, smartest son in the entire world.” The ladies tittered among themselves, then the next spoke up.
“And he’s going to be a great vet! My name is Amanda Zoland, I’m new in town, and I’m the vet he’s learning from this summer. You’re right to be proud of him. You raised him right and he’s a good kid.” Allyssa looked delighted as she beamed back at Amanda.
“My names is Casey Malcom and this is my daughter Annie. The angels who right now are asleep here in this carrier are Kai and Enya and my mom would be watching them but she’s here too,”
“And they’re darling,” replied Dana. “Your husband is the detective?”
“That’s him.”
“Good, having the police around makes us all feel safer. And where is your mom?”
“Here I am, my name Sandra Armstrong,” she waved from her seat next to some older ladies and they went back to comparing their spindles and roving.
Dana smiled and turned back to the next person. “And you are?”
“My name is Betsy Bayou and my husband Jed is the deputy. I work at the school as a receptionist.”
“I’m Sophia Drummel and I am not too old to learn something new. My best friend knew how to do this and so did my ma and I want to keep up with my ancestors. Besides, I could make Pierre a jacket made from yarn I spun myself.”
“That’s a good goal. I take it that’s Pierre under your chair?” She gestured at the sleeping tiny dog.
“He’s waiting for his tea. He particularly likes chamomile.”
“I see. And you are?” Dana asked another woman.
“I’m Rosemary Collins. I think I may be older than Sophia and I think neither of us are too old to learn something new. Although somehow, I have already mislaid my spindle and can’t find it. I tried to get here early to buy another one before class.”
“I agree with that sentiment,” smiled Dana. “And no worries, use one of mine and after class go choose another one.” She handed Rosemary a pretty walnut drop spindle.
“I’m Aurora Anderson. I teach fifth grade at the school.”
“I am Mayellen Yoder and I am here with my friend Hannah Byler. She’s a baker. I am a farmer’s wife.”
“And Mayellen makes incredible blankets for preemie babies and hats for the cancer patients,” added Allyssa. “And Hannah brought the cookies tonight.”
“She did? Awesome,” enthused the next person. “My name is Melody Bibby and I run the bookstore.”
She nodded to the next person in the circle who said, “I’m Jane Long and my niece here is Andy; our family has the Get A Long Cafe.” Dana nodded.
“And I’m Suzanne Hays and I own the sister store here, Fabric Avalanche. I love learning new things.”
“Thank you. So altogether, fifteen of us. All the time my husband was in the military, all I could think about was getting my own place and settling down with my family and animals. You really get so tired of being deployed here, there, and everywhere. He was a specialist in what he did and so we moved fairly often to new installations. For instance, my son was born in Texas and in three weeks, we moved to Germany for six months and then to Hawaii and back to Texas. We did that for over fifteen years. That’s all over now, and Mom and I are having a good time setting up our farm. In a few weeks, I want to take you all out there for a tour and tea, but for now, let’s get started with tonight’s project.
“Now do you all have one of the kits or at least a spindle? Excellent. Let me give you a little background on drop spindles. The earliest drop spindles we have date from almost 7000 years ago and were found in tombs in the Middle east. Actually, they only found the whorls, that’s this bottom part because the wooden part, the shaft, had rotted away. Whorls of different kinds have been found in almost every area on the globe made of stones, wood, semiprecious stones, horn, and everything in between. The earliest fibers were spun simply by rolling them on your leg, then they added a stick to catch what you had rolled and someone added a weight and here we have drop spindles. Drop spindles were used all the way up to the 16th century when spinning wheels took over. A drop spindle has three parts, the shaft, which is the stick part, the whorl, which is the weight at the top or bottom of the shaft and a hook. I see most of you have top spinners, I use both top and bottom spindle dependent on my fiber. In the middle ages and before, everyone spun fiber – men, wives, kids – because it takes so long to get enough to make fabric. Fabric was very precious. So, they would spin at night by the fire, they would spin as they walked from place to place, they would spin as they watched over flocks in the fields. In medieval times, part of a family’s taxes would be a pound of yarn spun up; some places even asked men to work on the roads three days a year and the wives and daughters to come to the palace three days out of a year and spin for them. Usually, a family would spin their yarns for different purposes, depending on what fleece they had, heavy wools for cloaks and blankets, lighter for close to the skin fabrics. They would prepare it, dye it and then take it to a weaver for being made into cloth.”
She paused and pulled some roving and some yarn out of her bag. “Let’s get a feel for what we have in our hands first by tying a leader yarn here on your spindle,” she handed out eighteen inches of yarn to each person and helped them tie them in the correct place. “I have a handout for you about spindles and it goes back over the history in greater detail and all my instructions so don’t worry about making notes. You won’t need them. You will need your hands free for tonight.” She continued her class, correcting errors and shortly most of the ladies had successfully managed to make a few feet of yarn. They softly chattered as they worked, each helping the other, making the room feel companionable with no one seeming left out.
“Now, let’s take a short break and then come back to practice some more. Once you are confident you can produce a uniform piece of ply, we’ll look at this week’s homework.”
The ladies all got up and got cookies and tea or coffee, came back, and settled in for a bit of gossiping, which is what made classes so much fun. Sophia took a little bowl out of her pocket, put some cream in it, half filled it with tea and sat it down for Pierre, who actually did lick it up, genteelly burping afterwards, requesting with big eyes at his mistress to be let out to go potty and, when he came back in, finally trotting over to Sophia's chair and sitting under it again. She gave him a chew toy and he settled in. Dana got better acquainted with everyone. She had agreed to start another class the next week on Tuesday. They split the 27 who had signed up into two groups, one meeting tonight with 15 and the other next Tuesday with, at this point, twelve.
After thirty minute or so, Dana called them all back to work and they practiced for a while. The quietly continued their discussions started at the break. Dana let them work for another forty minutes, then handed out her lessons and said, “Now I am going to give each of you a small bag of roving. This is a blend of merino and llama, long fibers so it ought to be easy for you to practice with. I’d like you all to have it spun up into single ply yarn by next week, but I also want you to have it split into two mostly the same size balls of first step yarn. Make it as thin as you like, remembering it is going to added to another piece to make two ply yarn. I personally like mine to be about like this,” and she passed around a couple pieces for them to look at. “Next week we are going to learn to ply. What I am handing out are the natural colors of my animals, it’s not dyed, so you may have either grey, brown, cream or black. Th
ere’s about two ounces to practice with. Next week we will ply it, set it, and hang it to dry. You will learn about how to figure out what weight of whorl you need for what fiber, and you’ll be given a pattern to take home to use with your yarn when it’s dry. Once dried, we’ll be making it into a simple knitted or crocheted scarf so you’ll be able to say you made this scarf from beginning to end. See you all next week!”
Chapter Eight
Brad walked over to the school where he had visited at lunch time every day for the past five years. He took his sack lunch out of his bag, along with another bag of cookies, and went to sit down on “his” bench, near the playground. He poured himself a cup of coffee from his thermos and took out his sandwich. He sometimes missed getting food from the cafe, but he had to admit the sandwiches his wife made were lots better. Today’s seemed to be a combination of turkey, cheese, lettuce, bacon, tomato, pickles, sweet onions, some sort of sauce, all on a hoagie bun with sesame seeds on top. She’d included a little bag of chips, and a note reminding him of the class she would be at tonight, where to find his supper, and how much she loved him. He smiled and tucked it into his pocket, took a bite of his sandwich and looked up. He thought he saw something over by the sidewalk, a glimpse of red and blue. He followed it up the trunk of a large tree and amidst the starting to turn fall colors, he saw movement. On the sidewalk, someone walked by, ducked and hurried on, brushing their heads. There was a definite sound of giggling. He watched a moment longer, sighed, put his sandwich back in its bag and walked over.
“Ok, get down here.” he demanded.
The tree was quiet.
“I mean now. I can see you. Get down here.” A glob of something white and icky looking hit the pavement next to him.
“Assaulting an officer with goop is punishable offense. You want me to cuff you two?”
The tree shook a little as two boys, the older one carrying a quart jar, came slowly down.
Criminally Spun Out: Book 5 of the Fiber Maven's Mysteries Page 4